


Beautiful Abyss

by prettyapathetic



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6146983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyapathetic/pseuds/prettyapathetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after the fall finale. My version of how Jim handles what he and Oswald did to Galavan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the Gotham fandom, so please leave me some comments. I would love to know if I've got a decent handle on the characters. Also, I have no beta, so any and all mistakes are mine.

Jim didn’t know what he was doing there. He sat in his car, staring blankly out the window at Oswald’s place through the drizzle that dampened the night. It had been nearly a month since the night of Galavan’s… demise, and Jim was lying low. He knew that Barnes knew that he had something to do with it, that he would never understand that it was a necessity. This was Gotham after all.

When he thought about it though, really thought about it, he didn’t want Barnes to understand. He needed him to be the kind of cop that Jim needed him to be, that Jim was trying to be, that he wanted so _desperately_ to be.

Now wasn’t that something he was failing at miserably?

What scared him the most was that he felt no guilt about killing Galavan, or about letting Cobblepot beat him half to death before pulling the trigger. It was that, more than anything, that had him sending Lee away. He told her he needed her, and their unborn child, to be safe, but what he really meant was he needed them to be safe _from_ him. Somehow, he thought she might have known that, as she didn’t argue, she just simply left.

And now Jim was left alone with his thoughts, thoughts which repeatedly returned to the one person in the world that knew the truth. The one man that might possibly understand. Too bad his old friend and possible confidant just happened to be a little crazy.

Before he could think on it any further, Jim was opening the door and stepping out of the car. He took a deep breath and attempted to still his mind. It was remarkably easy. Without a second thought, Jim locked the doors and headed across the street.

He was greeted at the door by one of Oswald’s goons. As per always, he was let in without so much as a second glance. Jim wasn’t sure if he’d ever really taken note of that before. Usually when he came here, he was completely preoccupied with whatever had brought him there to really notice, he’d only been glad that no one had stood in his way.

Another goon appeared then and without a word escorted him to what Jim thought of as the dining room, though he’d never actually seen anyone eat there.

“Jim!” A surprised Oswald stood and limped towards him, a smile spread across his face. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Jim glanced around the room in an attempt to quell his urge to return the smile. Quickly, he squashed any thoughts that were trying to bubble up to the surface about the real reason he might be there and instead focused on the one other familiar face in the room. He nodded at Selina, knowing that any attempt to dissuade her from being here would go unheeded, and after all she’d done to help find Bruce, he really wasn’t sure he wanted to dissuade her anymore. She smirked in response, an unsettling and knowing look on her face.

Confusion crossed Jim’s features for a moment before he turned his attention back to Oswald. 

“I wasn’t expecting me either.” 

Without thinking, he made eye contact with Oswald. He always tried to avoid that, but admittedly, he was rarely successful in that endeavor. This time felt different though. The second their eyes met, he felt something shift, something he’d been trying to ignore for a long time, was still trying to ignore if he were being honest. Still, he couldn’t look away. He could swear he saw happiness and something just a little devilish in those eyes and it caused a shiver to run down his spine and pool in his stomach.

“Leave us,” Oswald suddenly ordered without breaking eye contact with Jim. Clearly, Oswald had noticed something in their brief exchange, though Jim refused to think on what that might have been. Instead, Jim merely held Oswald’s gaze as he tried to keep his breathing at a normal pace.

A little voice in the back of Jim’s mind begged him to turn around and go, to just _leave_ already, but he couldn’t. He could just stand there and look into those crisp, blue-grey eyes and start to wonder if he was losing his mind.

“You too, Selina,” Oswald said, warningly. Jim heard her huff and with the barest whisper of a noise, they were alone. “Now, what can I help you with today, Detective?”

Jim froze at that. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had decided to come. Part of him knew it was just because no one else knew what had happened that night, but part of him also never wanted to think of that night again. Mostly, it had just been an overwhelming desire to see the man who now stood before him. But why? Why couldn’t he stop the speeding train of his life from derailing?

Part of him wondered if he really wanted to stop it.

Oswald stepped closer to him then. Jim was startled to see genuine worry etched on his face. Oswald’s right hand rose and hesitated just slightly before it came to rest on Jim’s cheek. It was surprisingly warm and soft and before he could even think to stop himself, Jim found himself closing his eyes and leaning into the touch with a soft sigh.

“Are you okay?” Oswald’s voice sounded nothing but concerned, a sharp contrast to his usual sarcasm. The tone caused Jim’s eyes to flutter open and once again look directly into the bright eyes staring back at him. Jim was a little surprised to see that the concern in Oswald’s voice matched the look in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Jim replied, honestly.

Before he could say anything else, Oswald’s hand slipped down his face to rest on his shoulder. “Come,” he said softly before turning and motioning for Jim to follow him.

He was lead down a dim hallway and back into a separate room that seemed to be Oswald’s private suite. They were in a large open room that appeared to be a sitting room or living room. The only light source in the room was from a softly crackling fireplace on the far side of the room. In front of it, two over stuffed wingback chairs sat facing the fire and just to the left, a sideboard with a decanter filled with an amber liquid and a couple of glasses on top of it.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Oswald asked as he motioned for Jim to sit. Jim nodded in response as he took a seat. The chair was even more comfortable than it looked.

Oswald hobbled over to the sideboard and poured them each a scotch on the rocks before making his way back over to the chairs and handing one of the drinks to Jim.

Jim took the glass from Oswald and took a sip while staring into the flames that danced before his eyes. He felt warm and comfortable and just a little mesmerized, something he often felt around Oswald, though he could never admit to it, especially to himself.

“You haven’t been doing well, have you?” Oswald’s words broke Jim out of his thoughts and he turned to look at the man across from him once again. “I thought that might have been the first time you killed someone in cold blood. Not the first time you’d killed, oh no, but the first time when it wasn’t self defense or war.”

Jim just stared back at Oswald, surprise colouring his features. He knew that Oswald was clever and observant, but he hadn’t guessed that he used those talents to assess anyone not currently threatening his life.

Oswald smiled at Jim again, another seemingly honest expression. _No, not seemingly, Jim thought, that’s real, I actually believe him right now._

Oswald’s smile brightened, as if he’d just read Jim’s mind, and honestly, Jim wouldn’t have been surprised if he had.

“You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for,” Jim acknowledged. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about the details, but he was starting to give into the feeling that he wanted to be there, with Oswald. He took another sip of his drink and relaxed back into the chair. He wasn’t sure he’d know where to start even if he did want to talk. Besides, it already seemed like Oswald knew what was going on in his head better than he did.

“I am where you’re concerned Jim. I do truly consider you my friend, and I think maybe you think of me the same way. Or maybe, friend isn’t exactly the right word.”

There was tone in Oswald’s voice that Jim couldn’t quite put his finger on at first. He turned, blinking owlishly at him in the dim light of the fire, a feeling of warmth rising in him that was not a result of the fire as he saw a blush colour Oswald’s cheeks. It made him look… beautiful.

Now where the hell had _that_ thought come from?

Jim raised a shaky hand up to touch his cheek, the one that Oswald had cupped only about 15 minutes earlier. So this was the thought he’d been trying to avoid, the real reason he’d wanted Lee out of town. Jim let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and downed the last of his drink.

“I think maybe you’re right,” Jim agreed, voice gruff with the scotch and the desire he was still trying to hold at bay. “Maybe friend isn’t the right word.”

Jim loosened his tie and stood, not really sure what to do with himself. Was he really thinking this? Did he really want this? Was this the dark abyss he’d been running to and yet fighting against all this time? He made his way over to the sideboard, and poured himself another drink. He downed it before turning back to Oswald.

A sadness filled Jim, matching equally with the desire he felt. He’d been lying to himself for so long, he’d been trying for so long to be a normal, upstanding citizen, to be the best cop he could be, to save Gotham from the things that went bump in the night, and now all he wanted to do was throw that all away on the current mob kingpin of Gotham.

Even if it was just for one night.

Oswald frowned slightly and stood, limping over to Jim, stopping just shy of touching him. “You’re still a good man, Jim Gordon,” he whispered and god did Jim want to believe him.

“No, I’m not,” Jim replied softly before giving in kissing Oswald, the touch of lips almost as soft as the words that had passed between them.

It was like losing himself in the most pleasant way possible. Oswald’s lips were warm and soft, but there was a fierceness behind the kiss that Jim clung to like a drowning man gasping for air. Jim felt Oswald’s lips part and his tongue swipe his bottom lip, causing him to moan quietly into the kiss, accepting the exploring tongue into his mouth.

He felt Oswald tremble slightly as he wrapped his arms around his thin waist and pulled him flush to his body. Jim moaned again, this time with a bit more gusto as he felt Oswald’s growing erection press into his hip. He felt his own cock twitch with desire, and before he could think about it, he lifted Oswald, causing the other man’s legs to wrap around his waist before spinning him and sitting him down on the sideboard. He now had the perfect angle as he rocked his hips forward, softly cursing the fact that they were both fully dressed.

Jim broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Oswald’s as he panted for breath, his eyes closed and red colouring his cheeks, part embarassment, part lust. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” Jim admitted, still not looking at Oswald.

Oswald’s hands were on his shoulders, but as Jim spoke, his left hand shifted to the back of Jim’s neck, while the right came to rest on his cheek in almost an exact replica of the position it had been in earlier that evening. His thumb caressed the skin just below Jim’s eye, as if trying to wipe away the worry.

“I would not have guessed that,” Oswald replied, sounding breathless. He leaned in and kissed Jim again before whispering, “my only complaint currently, is that you’ve stopped.”

That was all it took for Jim to break in the most beautiful way. He whimpered slightly as he dove back into the kiss. He’d never kissed anyone like this before, he’d never wanted to. The strength behind it could likely serve to be Jim’s undoing and he would welcome it with open arms.

Without breaking the kiss, he pushed Oswald’s jacket from his shoulders, pushing it down his arms and off before pulling at his tie and starting to undo the buttons on his well pressed shirt, just needing to feel and taste more skin. He was so invested in the task that he barely noticed as Oswald fiddled with his belt before opening his fly and pressing his palm firmly to Jim’s cock through his boxers. The pleasure that sizzled through his body was almost too much to take. The kiss was broken again as Jim growled and rocked his hips forward into Oswald’s hand as he pressed his forehead into the shoulder in front of him. It really wasn’t going to take much for him to come in his pants like a teenager.

Jim’s hands slipped down Oswald’s body, stopping to grip his hips, just needing something to hold onto, but then Oswald’s hands slipped just inside the band of Jim’s boxers and pushed them down in one fluid motion. And then, there it was, skin on skin contact as Oswald took him in hand and began to stroke him, firm but maddeningly slow.

“I’m going to make you come, old friend,” Oswald whispered as he continued with a pace that made Jim want to cry.

Oswald’s free hand came up to rest on the back of Jim’s neck as he gasped into Oswald’s neck. “You know you’re safe with me, right Jim? You can let go here and no one will know. I will not break your trust,” Oswald whispered into Jim’s ear, lips brushing the shell as he spoke. Jim’s cock twitched in Oswald’s hand and his hips snapped a little harder as the words were spoken.

Jim could feel Oswald smile against his ear and that was all it took. The orgasm that overtook him ripped through him, causing him to grip Oswald’s still clothed hips so hard that later he would be sure he’d bruised him. His mouth opened against the skin of Oswald’s neck as he held back a scream he was sure would shake the walls and his vision whited out as he came all over Oswald’s hand, his own shirt and Oswald’s pants.

The next thing Jim was aware of was one of Oswald’s hands carding through his hair while the other still gently held his now spent cock, his thumb swirling around in the come that remained on the still sensitive head.

Jim shivered at the contact and moved back just enough so he could look Oswald in the eyes again.

“Next time,” Oswald said, his eyes glinting with mischief, “you’re not going to be able to hold back that scream.” Oswald smiled fully then, before pulling his hands free of Jim’s boxers and slowly licking at the mess left on his hand.

Jim shivered visibly, unable to take his eyes off of Oswald.

“Yeah, next time.”


End file.
